


Beast and Beauty

by mrbarbacarisi



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Mutual Pining, Romance, Werewolf Courting, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Hunters, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrbarbacarisi/pseuds/mrbarbacarisi
Summary: Sonny loves being a wolf, but hates the hunters who won't hesitate to kill his pack. Peter moved to New York to return to his roots, but he has no idea just how deep those go. When the two meet, their heritage catches up to them.
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. & Peter Stone, Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Peter Stone
Comments: 14
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This has been an idea of mine for two years. It's all planned out and I'm excited to finally be sharing it with you.

_1993_

Sonny laid despondently on the kitchen floor, sighing as he watched his sisters walk past him on their two human legs.

His four wolf legs were tucked up under his body in an attempt to make himself smaller. He didn't want to be seen. He didn't want to be touched. He just wanted to be human again.

Bella sat down in front of him with a cheerful smile. "You'll be okay. It's only been three days."

He huffed. Three days might as well have been a lifetime. He could barely keep track of time outside of sunrises and sunsets. He wouldn't be surprised if he had forgotten how to walk as a human, let alone go back to school.

If Bella noticed his sour mood, she didn't show it. She started counting off names on her fingers. "Ma was stuck the first time for two weeks. Daddy was a month but he was already grown up so that doesn't count. Gina had three weeks and Auntie Elena was only one! So that could be you, Sonny."

He sighed again and turned away, curling in on himself as he shifted to face the wall instead.

"I'll draw you pictures to cheer you up," Bella promised and then dashed away.

Sonny wanted to roll his eyes. Bella wasn't old enough to transform yet. What did she know?

What Sonny knew was that he has been looking forward to this for most of his life. Finally becoming a full wolf and fulfilling his family's heritage. What he didn't anticipate was being stuck in this form with absolutely nothing to do for days on end.

It was normal to not have control over the transformation at first. But Sonny was smartest kid in his class. He could learn anything quickly, and he couldn't figure out how to change back.

Now he had missed half a week of 7th grade. He wondered how he would make up the history test that happened on Thursday. Or if he’d ever get to finish the book they were reading in English.

"Sonny, dear."

He sighed at the voice of his mother from across the room. She was the best wolf in the whole city. She wouldn't stand to see her son be stuck like this.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

Sonny didn't move. He closed his eyes, wishing he could cover his ears so he didn't have to hear absolutely every squeak and crack in the house. He was pretty sure there was a small colony of mice living in the walls. His human senses were enhanced already, but all of that seemed to be amplified in his wolf form. Everything was too sharp and loud. He could smell and taste things he would have missed before. He still had trouble focusing on the right things.

He could smell pasta boiling on the stove, and meat cooking beside it. These stood out in sharp relief against the other smells in the room and the house. He couldn't remember when he ate last. His stomach growled against his will.

He heard his mother’s steps on the wooden kitchen floor. Hers was a scent he had known since childhood, but to a wolf's nose, it was deeper and richer. It still didn't overwhelm the scent of the sauce-laden spoon she held as she knelt beside him.

"We're having spaghetti and meatballs. Would you like to join us?"

Sonny didn't respond.

"You're going to have to use your words."

He growled in frustration. How was he supposed to use his words when he couldn't speak?

"This is natural, Sonny boy. You'll switch back sooner or later."

He turned around just to glare at her. _I hate you_ , he thought not for the first time since he had transformed. He wanted to yell those words at her, scream them at the top of his lungs. He gave a loud howl instead.

His mother smiled. "Good. You need to let out your emotions so you can process them. If you don't, you won't have any control over which form you're in."

He growled again. 

"I know you're mad at me, but you're still expected to eat at the table like everyone else."

Sonny looked over at the dining table, where Gina was setting plates for every member of the family. His placemat had the same bowl as everyone else, but no utensils. He dreaded making yet another mess, even if Bella found him eating as a wolf hysterical.

He huffed, and stood to take his place at the table.

* * *

The _crack_ of wood echoed across the yard as Peter’s pitch hit its target.

The small piece of wood attached to the backyard fence had many dents along its surface from hours spent being pummeled by a baseball. Red rings of a target were spray painted onto it, but Peter hardly ever used them. Good pitchers don’t throw the ball in the same place twice. The best pitchers had a solid fastball.

That’s what he was working on that afternoon. The pros could throw triple-digit speeds. Peter was above average, but could still only produce a 60 mph fastball consistently. He wasn’t even 13 yet, so he still had time. But he really wanted to hit at least 62 mph before next season. So, he practiced.

He bent over to grab another ball from his stash. He had a set of ten, some newer than others. None of them were quite as good as the balls he got to use in Little League, but they were still baseballs. He was on his last one before he would have to collect them all from the edge of the yard.

Peter flexed his glove and lined himself up for another pitch. His fingers slid into position on the ball. He planted his feet, holding ball and glove in front of him. His eyes focused on the top left corner of his target.

All in one motion, he wound himself up for the throw, right leg lifting, arm cocking backward at the elbow, and then released with as much force as he could muster, turning his arm through the familiar motion of a pitch.

He landed solidly back on his feet just as the _crack_ sounded on the target. There was now a big, beautiful dent on the top right corner of the wood. He grinned. Perfect throw.

A low whistle came from the porch. He turned to find his sister standing behind him.

Pamela smiled. “That was pretty awesome.”

He nodded, still grinning. “Yeah. Wish I knew how fast it was. I’m trying to break sixty.”

“Sixty _miles an hour_?”

“Yeah. That’s my record so far.”

“I had no idea you could throw that fast.”

He shrugged and ran down to the fence to gather the baseballs. Pamela jogged after him to help. They each ended up carrying five balls back toward the porch.

“Thanks,” Peter said after they had all ten baseballs back in their shoebox.

“Anything for my baby brother,” she replied.

“I’m not a baby.”

“You are to me.”

“You’re only three years older.”

“That’s a pretty long time. I wonder how fast you’ll be able to throw when _you’re_ fifteen. I bet you’ll be able to knock down the whole fence.”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

She grinned. “Yeah. If mom saw what you could do, she would be very impressed.”

That made Peter pause. He never saw their mother much, aside from when she came to pick up or drop off Pamela from a summer upstate. Since the divorce, their parents didn’t get along well enough to stand being in the room with each other for more than five minutes.

“You could always come with me next year,” Pamela continued. “Mom would love to have you.”

Peter sighed. He never went with her, though his mom asked every year. When he was little, he didn’t want to go because he was scared of new places. Now, he didn’t want to upset his dad. He always looked so sad after Pamela had left, but he usually cheered up after he saw Peter throw a ball or play a game. Peter wasn’t sure what his dad would do if he left with Pamela for the summer.

“What do you even do up there?” he asked.

She smiled. “I could tell you if you came along, but I promise it’s very fun.”

Pamela had described a small house outside the city to him before, and it sounded boring. No cars, no people on the street? Not even a TV to watch baseball? That didn’t sound fun at all.

“I’d miss playoffs,” he said. Little League playoffs were in the middle of summer and he hoped his team could get to the World Series this year. He wouldn’t miss that for some stuffy house upstate.

“And what if your team didn’t make playoffs?” Pamela asked.

“Then I suck.”

She laughed. “Right. I forgot you’re an up and coming pitcher.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna play in the Majors.”

“For the Mets?”

“Maybe. If they draft me.”

Pamela bent down and picked up one of the baseballs, tossing it back and forth between her hands. “Mind if I throw one?”

“Sure,” Peter said, though he’d never seen his sister throw a ball in his life, “but my glove won’t fit you.”

She caught the ball in her right hand and waved her left. “A glove’s for catching anyway.”

He shrugged and then stepped back to give her space. He watched as Pamela sized up the target, gripping the ball tightly like she had seen him do. Then, she planted her feet, cocked her arm and threw.

The ball landed with a _whack_ right in the middle of the target, leaving a decently sized dent.

Peter’s jaw dropped open. “How did you _do_ that?”

She walked over and leaned down to meet his eyes directly, grinning. “Practice.”

He stared after her as she walked back into the house. It took him months of tries to be able to land a ball where he wanted it to. And Pamela did it on her _first_? If their mom was helping her practice baseball upstate, maybe visiting wouldn’t be that boring. His dad never played catch with him anyway.

After Pamela went inside, the door swung open again. His father was there, peering at him over his glasses.

“Come on, Peter,” he said. “That’s enough practice for today. The neighbors will start complaining soon.”

Peter sighed and nodded. It was nice that they had a backyard in the city, even if it was small. But practicing his pitching also meant annoying other families who lived next door.

He gathered the baseballs and his glove before he headed inside, wondering if Pamela would play catch with him sometime. It would be a shame to waste an arm like that.

* * *

_1997_

Sonny sank into the couch in the living room after a long day at school. He felt numb. Nothing mattered anymore. Not his biology project, his algebra test, or even his stupid savings to buy a PlayStation. Nothing else mattered when someone you knew died.

Especially when they were murdered.

Sure, it looked like a suicide or an accident: an overdose at the park. But Eva didn’t do drugs. No wolf did. You weren’t allowed in the packs if you couldn’t be in control of yourself. It’s a rule. You don’t drink. You don’t do drugs. You don’t kill or turn people when they didn’t deserve it.

Eva didn’t deserve this. He’d pay all of the money he had to save her. She got into Yale. She was going to be a lawyer. She was going places. 

Not anymore.

“Sonny,” his mother said softly as she sat next to him, “you can’t go back to school until we sort this out.”

He blinked. He hadn’t thought about that. Eva was just a year older than him, a senior. The packs were still trying to figure out exactly what happened, but the hunters must have gotten to her on her way home. And Sonny knew there were at least two younger hunters in his grade, too. His ma had asked the school to change his homeroom when he ended up with one of them in his class. It could have been one of them. It could have been someone on the street. Nowhere was safe.

He hadn’t missed school for more than a day since he first learned his wolf form, but this was much more important. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

He nodded. “Bella and Gina too?”

“Yes. We’ll all be home for now. We don’t know what they’re planning next.”

“They’re not supposed to hurt us,” Sonny said. The hunters never got along with the wolves, but they had a treaty. Both sides agreed not to strike first. It had prevented a lot of needless deaths. That’s why Sonny was safe to go running in Central Park as a wolf at night sometimes, as long as the humans didn’t catch him.

His mother sighed. “The treaty works until it doesn’t. They don’t believe we should exist, so they will never stop. They only hold off because they’re afraid of what we’ll do in response.”

He turned to meet her gaze. “What are we going to do?”

“Eliminate the threat.”

He froze. That meant death. His ma was talking about _killing_ someone. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but not this.

“That’s a really nice way to say murder,” he said.

She gave him a hard look. “We defend our own. Always.”

He’d never see Eva again. She’d never laugh or cry again. She would never even graduate high school. She was a part of their pack, so she was part of their family. They were all going to cheer for her so loud at graduation, wolf whistles and all. Now, that would never happen.

And it hurt. It felt like he had swallowed broken glass ever since he had heard. His chest was ripping apart, slowly, breath by breath.

He didn’t want anyone else to feel like this — even a hunter.

“There are other remedies,” he argued. “The treaty-“

“This is the fourth death this month,” she interrupted. “The other remedies are not working.”

“ _Four?_ ” The glass in his chest exploded into a whole new level of pain. Three other wolves were dead, and he didn’t even know. “When? How?”

Her warm hand gently brushed through his hair. “I tried to keep this from you. I didn’t want you to grow up like I did, always afraid. But maybe that was too sentimental. It doesn’t make sense to send you into the world unprepared.”

“Who were the others?”

“Members of the other packs, one for each. They were all adults. That’s why I didn’t want to worry you. I thought maybe the hunters were just reminding us of our place. It’s not in the treaty, but they have never attacked a child. I didn’t think any of you were in danger. That was naive of me.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t know.”

“I’m pack leader. I’m supposed to know.” She paused, making sure to meet his eyes. “And you might have to know too someday.”

He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want the responsibility, but he might not have a choice. The title usually went to the first born female wolf, if no one else challenged her. But Teresa couldn’t inherit because she didn’t have a wolf form. Next would be Gina, but no one expected much from her. She had no interest in pack politics. Not like Sonny.

Sonny shouldn’t be able to inherit the title at all, but he could if his mother named him as successor. If she didn’t do that, it would fall to Bella. If Bella refused, it would be the end of their dynasty.

He met his mother’s eyes. In them, he saw a deep pain and a hardness that came from a lifetime of making tough calls. He never wanted to see that in Bella.

He didn’t want it for himself either. He didn’t want to be pack leader, but he would do it if it meant that his sisters could be happy and safe.

He nodded. “The leaders are meeting tonight?”

“Yes, but you should stay home this time. Just in case.”

In case they were caught by the humans, she meant. No court would accept pack justice as an excuse for murder. Sonny wasn’t sure he accepted it himself.

His mother stood and placed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Be safe. Look after your sisters. I’ll tell you what we decided when I get back.”

He watched her walk away for a minute before he remembered something. “Wait,” he called.

She turned in the doorway, offering a soft smile. “I was gone barely a moment.”

He smiled at the joke, but it was hard to do. “Do we know who did this? All of them? I mean, specific hunters.”

“Good question,” she said. “As far as we can tell right now, it’s the work of only one of them. Her name is Anne Stone.”

“How is that possible?”

“They train just like we do. We suspect she may have gone rogue, but it’s unlikely she would have been able to kill this many without her clan’s approval.”

He sunk back into the couch. Four wolves dead in less than a month, and it was the work of just one woman.

“You don’t think she’ll stop, do you?” he asked.

“I think we’ll be very lucky if we manage to eliminate her before she gets to another one of us.”

Sonny took in a deep breath. It was very hard to think about anything other than the shattered glass in his chest.

* * *

Peter stared at the blank notebook in front of him, pen in hand. He was supposed to be writing out his feelings, but he didn’t think he had any to share.

Sometimes people who are grieving never cry. He remembered something about that from a book he had to read for class. Tears are expected when you’re sad, but everyone reacts differently. His teacher said that it was okay not to express emotions in the same way.

His mother had died a week ago. He still hadn’t cried.

He didn’t think he would. Not because he was too sad or numb to express his feelings, but because he didn’t have them in the first place.

It’s hard to grieve someone you didn’t really know.

His last good memory of his mother was from when he was really little, before the divorce. She read him a bedtime story. He snuggled up close to her, head on her chest, listening until he fell asleep. He didn’t remember what the story was about.

He had no other pleasant memories of his mother. Every other time he had seen her, she was stiff and closed off. She only softened around Pamela. Parents weren’t supposed to pick favorites, but it had always been clear to him which of her children she preferred.

Everyone at the funeral said he was brave and strong. Losing a parent is hard, especially the way it happened for him. A car accident; sudden and with no warning.

Peter didn’t feel brave. He felt empty. You can’t miss someone you had almost no connection to.

“You _never_ believe me!”

Peter looked up as Pamela stomped into the living room, eyes wet, clutching something shiny in her hand.

Their father followed her quietly, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. “I didn’t say that. I said there’s no evidence.”

“That’s the same thing,” she spat. “You didn’t even look, did you? You just accepted that this is what happened.”

Pamela, on the other hand, seemed to be grieving enough for all of them. At first, she refused to believe their mother’s death at all. Then, she saw the body. She had been the one who broke down crying at the funeral. Peter stood stoically beside her, unsure what else to do. But now, she was convinced something else was at play.

“Yes, I did,” their father said. “I checked out the entire investigation. It was an accident, Pamela. It isn’t what you think it is.”

“No. It isn’t what _you_ think it is.” She raised her hand and revealed a small piece of silver metal, cut into a rectangle that fit in her palm. “They left this with her on purpose. It’s a warning. So we know what happened.”

“Your mother had keychains just like that one on her all the time.”

“This one’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because they left it! They did this. They _killed_ her. And you don’t care.”

“Of course I care. I’m just as upset as you are. But I would know if this was murder. It just isn’t.”

Then, she laughed. It was deep and hollow, frustration and disbelief all wrapped together.

“No,” Pamela said with a mirthless smile. “You don’t know _anything_.”

“I assure you, I know plenty, Pamela. I understand you’re upset and you want a reason for this to have happened. My heart is broken about this. I want a reason for it too, but there just isn’t a good one. Accidents happen.”

She shook her head. “You don’t seem upset to me. You never cared about her. It’s pretty obvious.”

Peter watched his father’s face grow cold. He shrunk back into the chair as he spoke. “I will not have you talk to me this way.”

Pamela scoffed. “ _What_ way? With the truth? The truth you can’t even see when it’s staring right at you?”

“I’ve had enough of this. You’re upset. Go to your room and calm down.”

“You can’t tell me want to do. I’m nineteen.”

“Fine. If you’re going to be in this house, we’re going to be civil to one another.”

“If you won’t believe me, I don’t see a reason to be here at all.”

He let out a deep sigh. “That’s your choice.”

Pamela nodded, turned and marched up the stairs. His father sighed again and turned to walk away. Peter glanced between them, not sure what just happened.

“You’re going to let her leave?” he asked.

He turned back as Pamela’s footsteps pounded on the wooden floor above them. “Like she said, I can’t tell her what to do.”

“She’s still your daughter. No matter how old she is.” A wisp of a memory came to Peter’s mind. His mother’s voice. _You’ll always be my baby._ He pushed it away.

“You know that her and I never see eye to eye, especially after the divorce and the summers away. She always preferred her mother.” He swallowed, blinking quickly. “Now, she’s gone.”

Peter stared as his father turned away again, heading back into his study. No doubt to work on whatever case he had. He always had work to do.

A few minutes later, Pamela came marching back down the stairs with a big suitcase. She carried it with her right hand, her left still clutching the silver keychain.

She gave him a smile as she stopped in front of him on her way to the front door. The suitcase hit the floor with a heavy thud. With that amount of weight, Peter was amazed she could carry it with one hand without breaking a sweat.

“You could come with me, you know,” she said before Peter could ask about her training regimen.

“Where are you going?”

“I have a place to stay.”

He wrinkled his nose. “With a boyfriend?”

She laughed. “Nothing like that. It’s a good place. A place where I belong. You could join us.”

Peter immediately shook his head. He couldn’t leave. He had baseball season coming up. He made junior varsity as a sophomore. He wanted to support his team.

Pamela leaned down to look directly into his eyes. “You don’t owe anything to Dad. He barely even notices us. How many games of yours has he gone to lately?”

“The season hasn’t started yet,” he said. 

But her words stuck in his mind. Peter had chosen his father over his mother for years, but it was rare that Peter felt he was more important than his father’s work. He had an important job, but Peter mattered too. He still hadn’t really forgiven him for sending both Peter and Pamela away, out of state, for a whole summer, and didn’t come to get them when school was starting again. But that was years ago. He hadn’t done it again, even though Pamela went away with their mother every summer. And he’d promised to attend this year’s season opener.

She huffed. “Why do you defend him? He’s a terrible father.”

He glared. “Mom wasn’t the best either.”

Pamela stared at him, as if she was just seeing him for the first time. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

“At least dad doesn’t act like I don’t exist.”

“How do you think I feel in this house?”

Peter didn’t have a response to that. Did Pamela feel as disconnected from their father as he felt from their mother?

Pamela nodded, picked up her suitcase, and walked out the door, slamming it behind her.

He sat for a moment, letting the echoing thud reverberate through the room. He turned back to his notebook. The blank page still sat there. His mother was gone, and now his sister was too. He didn’t know what to write. 

Everything felt new and old at the same time. The losses were just the latest in a long series of events that led to this moment.

Peter wondered exactly when his family had broken apart so thoroughly.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny is sure that Peter means trouble for him, while Peter is settling into the city and his new colleagues.

_2018_

Peter pulled his coat tighter against the winter chill as he walked into the facility. He’d only been there once before and he wasn’t used to the sterile atmosphere. The decor was meant to be homey and relaxing, given the extended stays patients have, but it felt like a false version of a cozy room to Peter. Nothing felt really _lived in_ like someone’s home would.

That’s just another reason why it broke his heart to see Pamela here. Pamela, his sister, someone he knew as incredibly determined and headstrong, was now locked away in this facility, watched over carefully all hours of the day. He knew this was the best place for her and it was all to help, but she was now just a shell of herself.

Still, Peter smiled as he approached her in the main sitting room. She sat quietly, staring into the fire. For a moment, he could pretend she was still the Pamela he knew.

“Hi, Pam,” he said softly, sitting across from her.

She looked over and frowned, eyes vacant. “Who are you?”

“I’m Peter, remember?” He forced down the heartbreak. Her doctor said it would take a few visits before she could recognize him. A side effect of the illness and the medication. “I was here last week.”

Her frown deepened, as if she were trying to remember, but she just ended up shaking her head.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s been years. Probably too long.”

She didn’t reply and turned to look back into the fire. He wondered, not for the first time, when she first showed symptoms, and how his father reacted when he found out she had tried to attack someone. That’s why she had been committed in the first place. Her delusions had become too much. As far as he knew, Pamela hadn’t talked to either of them since she left the house after their mother died.

“Who were they, Pamela?” He found himself asking. She turned to look at him again, eyes still blank. “The people you lived with before. Why didn’t they help you?”

She frowned again. He hated making her do that so much. “…Eric?”

He leaned forward. “Eric? You were living with him?”

She nodded. “The clan. Everyone helps everyone. It’s peace and harmony and butterflies and daises …”

Peter took in a deep breath to settle the grief rising in his chest. No, this wasn’t his Pam. 

Still, he smiled. “That sounds like a nice place.”

“Very nice,” she responded. “Very nice.”

Peter didn’t reply as she turned back to watch the fire. He didn’t say anything else. Because she seemed happier when she was doing what she wanted to do. He didn’t want to abandon her to this facility, but so far, his visits seemed more like a chore to her than anything else.

But at least while they were sitting quietly together, he could pretend nothing had changed.

“I’ll be here every week,” he said.

Pamela met his eyes, giving a slight smile this time.

He smiled back. “I promise.”

She nodded, but Peter wasn’t sure how much she understood. Or how much of the conversation she would retain.

Later, when he stepped outside of the facility, back into the cold night air, he took in a shaky breath. He would not cry out here.

His body didn’t obey. The tears pricked at his eyes like red hot pokers, his throat clogged thick with regrets and wishes. The grief came over him in sharp, icy waves.

He still hadn’t told Pamela about their father: how he had died of cancer just a month ago. He had been hospitalized for awhile before then. Peter hadn’t visited until his final weeks. He hadn’t given his father much more than a phone call in years. And as if to make the separation even more permanent, the stubborn Ben Stone had even died when Peter was out of the room. A father neglected by his son, even to the end.

That was the same day he had found out about Pamela. He had tried to find her in the city. He hadn’t had any luck before. That’s because he was looking in the wrong place. The facility had called him because Peter was the next closest family member. He was next of kin and had power of attorney, and with that, complete control over Pamela’s life. If she could understand what was happening, she would hate it.

Out in the cold, Peter felt like he was grieving Pamela too. It wasn’t fair. She was still alive and happy, even if it’s not the life he would have envisioned. How could his father stand it? Coming here every week, seeing her like this?

Peter didn’t realize he had been fiddling with the small piece of metal in his pocket until that moment. It was silver, shaped in a rectangle almost like a keychain, but it didn’t attach to anything. He had found it with his father that day in the hospital. He wondered if his father had kept it as a reminder of his lost wife.

He sucked in a breath. He and Pamela were orphans now. Some family they made. Two dead parents, a sister who was ill, and a brother with no one else left. Somehow, the years and decades had widened the cracks between them even more, leaving an even more thoroughly broken family in their wake.

* * *

Sonny used to love his job. He still did, most of the time. He used to love getting up for work in the morning, even if he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He liked helping people. He liked solving puzzles. Being a detective was the perfect balance of both.

Then Peter Stone showed up.

And now, Sonny woke up every day for work with a pit in his stomach. Because his second life had come to the surface. The one where he’s not just an SVU detective trying to help. The one where he’s second in line to leading a pack of supernatural creatures, and Peter is the son of one of the most infamous wolf hunters in recent history.

Peter was Sonny’s enemy. His mother had killed four wolves in the span of a month. Just like Sonny’s mother had trained him, he was sure Peter’s mother had done the same for him. Taught him how to hunt and kill innocent people just because they existed.

Sonny was sure that was why Peter had even showed up to SVU in the first place. It was bold of a hunter to show his face to his prey in broad daylight, but Anne Stone had known no boundaries either.

Surely this new job of Peter’s was temporary, a means to an end. A way to get close to a ranking member of the most influential pack in New York. A way to eliminate the heir and destroy the dynasty that had been in power for the better part of a century.

Except that a couple months had gone by, and Peter hadn’t made a move.

“I don’t know, ma,” Sonny said as he worked on chopping up vegetables for a family dinner. “He just hasn’t done _anything_. Maybe he really believes in the treaty.”

His mother stood at the stove, back to him as she stirred the boiling pasta. She scoffed. “Unlikely. He’s probably waiting until we drop our guard.”

“Maybe.”

“He’s planning something. We should send someone to his apartment. Do you think he’d hire a maid?”

“Don’t you think he’d see right through that?”

“You said he works all hours anyway. She likely wouldn’t be there when he is. He wouldn’t have a chance to figure out that she’s a wolf.”

It was a solid plan, if they were dealing with any other hunter. “But he works with me every day and he has shown no indication that he even knows who I am.”

The memories came to mind. The ones Sonny tried to sink into the recesses of his brain, but kept floating to the surface anyway. The moments where Peter just genuinely seemed to want to get to know him, to work better with the squad, and to help people. In those moments, Peter just seemed like a good prosecutor who was passionate about his work, and loved baseball enough to actually have had a career in the MLB. He just seemed … normal.

But then Peter would somehow overhear a conversation across a crowded bar, or Sonny would walk into his office in the evening and find him casually doing a set of push ups. In those moments, Sonny would be reminded that Peter was not normal. He had a hunter’s enhanced senses and was obviously still training and staying fit.

His mother hummed in thought as they continued to prepare the food.

Sonny sighed. “I keep thinking he’ll pull me in close when we’re alone and murmur a threat or something. But he won’t even give me a high sign.”

“He’s visiting his sister. We know that much.”

“She’s out of commission.” 

The packs kept tabs on their biggest threats. After Anne Stone, that was her daughter and son. Pamela hadn’t been a threat for years. And for a long time, Peter hadn’t even been in New York. But the fact he had gone off to Chicago, the city with one of the largest wolf populations in the country, didn’t endear Peter to Sonny. If a hunter were looking for targets, he’d find more than enough there. But Peter also wouldn’t have had a community. All of the packs in Chicago had destroyed any hunter clan that had tried to settle in the city, and Sonny had no doubt that they wouldn’t have hesitated to eliminate Peter either if he made trouble.

“He’s not even associating with the clan here,” Sonny added. That was also weird. Peter didn’t make any sense. “I just ... I don’t know anymore.”

She turned around and patted his shoulder. “Stay strong. He’s trying to worm his way under your defenses.”

“I know.” 

Peter’s bright, friendly smile flashed in his mind. Sonny wished he didn’t know. He wished he could be a normal person too. He wished he could relax and just be friends with a colleague. One who obviously was trying very hard to get along with him.

“Just keep an eye on him,” his mother said. “We’ll figure this out eventually.”

Sonny nodded and turned back to chopping. He hoped they would figure it out before it was too late.

* * *

Sonny sat in the precinct, waiting for the phone to ring. He had the night shift again, and it was pretty slow going so far.

Ordinarily, he would relish in a slow night. It allowed him to catch up on paperwork and other things that had been languishing during an otherwise busy week. But now his mind was stuck on Peter, trying to solve that particular puzzle. Overthinking that situation just gave him a headache.

As a distraction, Sonny pulled out a few cold case files he kept at his desk. These were years-old cases that he suspected involved a supernatural element, but without much proof either way. Sonny wasn’t the only wolf in the force, but he was one of the highest-ranking. He was also the only one in an SVU unit, so it was him alone keeping an eye on these particular cases.

The one that bothered him the most was a kidnapping. A child around eight was snatched away at a park and hasn’t been seen since. The common wisdom was that she was dead. If there weren’t wolves out there looking to shore up their packs, Sonny would believe them. He had heard reports of a pack upstate making trouble by coming down to the city to take children and turn them. There hasn’t been an incident in years, and if Sonny was right, this was the last one. The kidnapping had happened about 20 years ago, around the same time the packs were dealing with Anne Stone. They were understandably distracted.

Sonny knew it was likely too late to help this girl. If she had been turned, she would have been living has a wolf her entire life. She likely wouldn’t feel comfortable back home with her actual family. But he couldn’t help his heart breaking over her. Sonny had had a hard enough time getting acquainted with his wolf form and he was born into it. Being turned at any age was painful, but to not even be ten years old must have been traumatic.

“Good evening, detective.”

Sonny jumped when Peter seemingly just appeared in front of his desk. No one should be able to sneak up on him, only wolves and hunters could do that. He took in a breath to steady himself.

“Sorry,” Peter said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sonny sighed and waved a hand. The contradictions in this moment exemplified his frustration with Peter. A display of power, and then kindness. “It’s fine. I should have been paying attention.”

“I hear you had quite the week. You must be exhausted.” Peter’s tone was not all that different from how he spoke to the other detectives. The concern in his eyes felt just as genuine.

Sonny shrugged. “Nothing more than usual.”

“You mind?” Peter asked, pointing to the chair set up near Sonny’s desk for interviews. Though he didn’t want to, Sonny nodded permission. Peter fluidly walked over and took the seat.

He leaned with a friendly smile. “I don’t know that I would call a 24 hour shift ordinary.”

Sonny scoffed. “Haven’t you learned anything about this unit in the past few weeks? We’re chronically understaffed.”

Peter nodded. “I know Liv is hoping for more detectives, so none of you are spread so thin.”

“Yeah, so’s everyone else. Did you need something, counselor?”

He shrugged. “I was heading out for the night and figured I’d swing by and see how you were doing.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Sonny studied him. This was the problem. Peter just appeared so _genuine_ , so caring, so kind. But Sonny knew it was all a front, a way to catch him off guard. Peter wouldn’t try anything in the middle of the precinct, even if it was late in the evening. Part of him wished he would though, just so he would know for sure where they stood.

He shook his head. “I’ll never understand you, Peter.”

“Colleagues can’t look after one another?”

“I know you’re trying hard to charm your way into our good graces, but it’s gonna take a hell of a lot to get to me.”

Peter grinned. “I like a challenge.”

Sonny rolled his eyes.

* * *

Peter laughed as Sonny rolled his eyes. He couldn’t even handle Peter checking up on him. Peter had thought maybe the small gesture might move the needle somehow.

Sonny’s obstinate attitude toward Peter was understandable at first. He hadn’t started working with the squad under the best conditions. But it had been a couple months now and Olivia, Fin and even Amanda had warmed up to him. But not Sonny.

Peter had tried so many different things. Baseball tickets, books, drinks. Anything to befriend him. Sonny just kept throwing up walls and putting distance between them instead.

According to everyone else, Sonny was the kindest and most friendliest person in the precinct, let alone the squad. But something about Peter made him want to turn away. It only made Peter want to crack him even more.

“What’s it going to take?” Peter asked. “A pick-up game? Dinner and a movie?”

Sonny was not impressed. “You play basketball?”

“Sometimes. I hear you used to shoot hoops.”

Sonny always seemed to carry some tension in his shoulders around Peter. In reaction to his words, Peter could see that tension increase ever so slightly. Maybe he shouldn’t be interviewing people about Sonny, but he was looking for some kind of common ground.

“Yeah,” Sonny admitted. “In high school, and a little in college. But I don’t much anymore.”

“Okay. I probably went a little too far here, asking people about you,” he said. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

The lines in Sonny’s shoulders relaxed a little, but he frowned instead. “You’re allowed to talk to people.”

“Just not to you.”

He sighed. “Some people just don’t get along with each other.”

Peter nodded, but his stomach dropped at the idea that he would never get along with Sonny. He was so friendly with everyone else. Part of him was a little jealous at the homemade dinners and desserts Sonny would deliver to the other detectives, or the care he’d take when he talked with a victim.

Once, just once, Peter would have liked to be the focus of those kind eyes. What he got instead was an ice cold stare.

“You might be right,” Peter said reluctantly. “I’ll leave you be. I hope the rest of the night goes well.”

Sonny nodded. “Thanks.”

Peter wanted to linger by the door on his way out, if only to see the tension in Sonny’s body ease just a little. Peter hated making Sonny so uncomfortable — especially when he had no idea as to the cause.

* * *

“What’s wrong, Teresa?” Sonny asked as he sat down across from her in the tiny coffee shop. 

She had called that morning and begged him to meet her. She never called. She never came to family dinners. Though she was the oldest, Teresa had always felt out of place. For her to reach out, it must be serious.

That’s why Sonny had come across town on two hours of sleep to see her.

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you?” Teresa replied.

“You know why.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Will you just tell me so I don’t have to guess?”

She took in a breath, glancing around as if afraid she was being watched. Sonny sat a little taller at that, keeping an eye on the periphery. 

“It’s Mia,” she said. “She … she was assaulted. Sexually.”

He paused. Mia, Teresa’s daughter, his niece, had been raped. Mia didn’t have a wolf form either, or she would have been more protected. Neither Teresa nor her daughter were considered full pack members, though they were part of the family in every other way. Sonny cursed their traditions for allowing Mia to be exposed like this.

“When?” Sonny asked. “Who did this? If the treaty was broken-“

“No,” Teresa interrupted. “This is why-“ She shook her head. “I didn’t call you because you’re a wolf. I called you because you’re my brother and you deal with cases like this all the time.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And while we’re on the subject, I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention this to our mother. I don’t need her in our business.”

“What? You think I was going to go tell on you to Ma?”

“Weren’t you?”

Sonny fell silent. She was half right. He did tell their mother almost everything about his life, but he didn’t like that that was a reason for Teresa not to trust him. Their mother was only looking out for them too.

She nodded. “Right. We’re normal humans, Sonny. We’ll handle this the normal human way.”

He let out a breath. “Okay. What happened?”

He listened patiently as Teresa recounted the story. He would want to hear directly from Mia too, but she was at Hudson giving testimony in a Title IX hearing. She apparently hadn’t wanted the police involved before and Teresa had just gone along with that.

In the middle of the conversation, Sonny’s phone buzzed. He checked it quickly, in case it was the squad. It was Peter. _Sorry if this wakes you up, but how do you take your coffee?_

Sonny closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He just wouldn’t give up, would he?

“What’s that?” Teresa asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just Peter annoying me. You were talking about the hearing.”

She gave a sly smile. “And who’s Peter?”

“No. It’s not like that. Just someone I work with.”

“So?”

“So, he’s Peter _Stone_. It’s not happening.”

“You work with hunters now?” The question was asked far too casually for Sonny’s taste.

“I don’t want to get into it.”

“You know, I’m impressed.” She smiled. “Glad to see you broadening your horizons.”

“Yeah. It’s a great working relationship, wondering every day when he’ll literally stab me in the back.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. They’re just people trying to live, just like us.”

“Totally. Except we don’t kill them for sport.”

“We’re not so innocent either.”

And this was the other reason Teresa didn’t feel like she belonged with the family. She always tried to understand the hunter perspective, for whatever reason. Sonny never understood how she could see the literal murders they committed and find a way to sympathize.

“How about we focus on Mia?” He asked, dodging the subject. He didn’t feel like picking a fight today. “When is this hearing over?”

* * *

The case was an utterly complete, total, and unmitigated disaster — and it was Sonny’s fault. He was the one who had coached Mia to hide the truth about her initial false report, and then he couldn’t go through with it himself on the stand. Sonny lied on a daily basis in order to keep certain things about his life hidden. He wouldn’t have hesitated to lie under oath to keep the packs from the public record. He had done that on a handful of occasions.

So why not now? Maybe Teresa insisting they would handle this the human way had wormed into his subconscious. He was still an officer of the law, and he still cared about that even when his other obligations got in the way.

In the end, it didn’t really matter why. Mia’s case had little chance of being salvaged after this. Her credibility had been ruined by her own uncle.

And everyone, including Peter, had worked so hard to help. Peter had surprised him through all of this. Sonny didn’t think for a second a hunter would feel comfortable not only with handling a case that involved a wolf family, but working so diligently on it too. Peter hadn’t treated it much differently than any other case Sonny had seen him work on — if anything he had only worked harder.

That made Sonny feel even worse for completely ruining everything. Whether Peter was being genuine or just playing a long game, he still had put the time and effort in. The least Sonny owed him was an apology.

And so, here he was, at the bar frequented by cops and lawyers, sitting next to Peter Stone like they were just colleagues and not mortal enemies.

“Look, I came to apologize,” Sonny said. “I shouldn’t have tried to hide information that was crucial to the case.”

“You don’t need to,” Peter replied. “When family’s involved, no one can think straight. We’ve all got family secrets. The important thing is you spoke up when it counted.”

Sonny paused. That was the closest Peter had ever gotten to admitting anything about their second lives. But if he meant anything more by it, Sonny couldn’t read anything in his body language. Besides, this was the calmest he had seen a prosecutor after someone had essentially destroyed their case.

“You’re not such a bad guy,” he said, “for a lawyer.”

Peter smiled. “I hear you’ve got the same disease.”

He huffed. “I think I’ve been cured.” Sonny had wanted to be a lawyer, sure, but that move was unlikely. The pack needed him on the streets more than in the courtroom. Peter being in the city was only an added reason to stay where he was, so he could keep watch. “Besides, I thought you said you’d stop asking around about me.”

“I have stopped. Promise. But I found out about this before that conversation. Why didn’t you mention you’re a member of the New York Bar?”

“I don’t practice. Didn’t seem relevant.”  
  
Peter nodded. “Fair enough. Stay with me for a drink?”

Sonny didn’t give it even a second’s thought. “Yeah, sure. Something’s got to wash away this guilt.”

He chuckled. “I thought I just absolved you.”

“Believe me, I got a lot more weighing on my soul than that.” 

These past few months had been hell already. He couldn’t read Peter and reading people was one of his best skills. He couldn’t protect Mia when that was literally in his job description as a pack leader. He deserved a drink, even if the company was less than desirable.

* * *

Peter was pleased when Sonny sat down to share a beer with him. Finally, some headway. Maybe he would stop seeing Peter as an enemy, especially after this case with his niece. It didn’t look great now, but he could write a convincing closing argument. The jury could see through to the truth. He would just have to remind them about it.

A little of the weight Sonny carried around seemed to lift the more he drank. Peter was glad he could finally relax around him, but was also worried he could only do it when alcohol was involved.

It was still nice just to exist next to him, sharing space and company. It was nicer still when Sonny decided to stay for a second drink, and a third. But then, somehow, within the space of two hours, Sonny had downed five drinks, including a few shots he had ordered himself.

“Okay,” Peter said when Sonny tried to order a sixth. “That’s probably enough for tonight.”

“You’re not in charge of me,” Sonny argued. His speech wasn’t slurring too badly, but his accent was much more pronounced.

“I’m just a concerned friend here.”

That got even more of a rise out of him. Sonny glared, his blue eyes shining under the lights in the bar, face red from the alcohol. “Oh we’re _friends_ now, huh?”

“We … don’t have to be,” Peter said, trying to figure out what was going through Sonny’s mind. Did he still dislike him? Why? Why sit down for drinks with him only to yell at him?

Sonny huffed. “I wish you would just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

He just shook his head. “Yeah. Thought so.”

“Sonny, I have no idea what you’re getting at.” 

“I’m not stupid. You were just in _Chicago_ of all places.”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh at that. Maybe Sonny just made no sense when he was drunk. “You got a beef with Chicago I don’t know about?”

“Don’t give me that. You know _exactly_ why I’m bringing it up.”

“Okay,” Peter said, taking in a breath to steel himself. This wasn’t at all how he pictured the night ending. “You’ve had a few too many. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t need your help.” Sonny attempted to stand, but had to lean against the bar to maintain balance.

“Clearly you do,” Peter said as he looped one of Sonny’s arms over his shoulders for support. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Sonny mumbled something Peter couldn’t make out, and he didn’t feel like asking for clarification. In the state he was in, it probably wouldn’t make sense anyway. 

Nothing made sense when it came to Sonny. This handsome, smart and charming man, who hated almost no one, had decided to hate him. Peter just wish he knew why and how to fix it.

* * *

“Yeah, you’ll just kill me instead,” Sonny muttered as Peter escorted him out of the bar.

Sonny was beyond caring. At this point, Peter had him so thoroughly confused and off guard, he deserved to kill him. If this had been his plan this whole time, it was masterful. Lull Sonny into a sense of false security, befriend him, buy him nice things, invite him to drinks. Then, get him so drunk he can barely stand and get him alone and kill him. It could work. It might just happen. He could barely keep his balance, let alone change into his wolf form right now.

Peter carefully helped him into the cab and climbed in behind him. Sonny collapsed into the seat. 

“You don’t need to ride with me,” Sonny said. “I’m fine.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather make sure you got back okay.”

He sighed. “Fine, if you wanna come into the wolf den.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” Peter replied.

 _Yeah, you will_ , Sonny thought. Maybe he should talk to his ma about the no intoxication rule. They were all kinda lightweights. It seemed risky when five drinks could put him under right next to the enemy.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Peter spoke again. “You know, you never told me your coffee order.”

Sonny laughed, long and hard. _This_ is what he asks as he’s literally taking him to his own murder?

Peter smiled. “What’s so funny?”

“Everything,” he said. If he was going to die, his last words may as well be how he takes his coffee. “Black, lots of sugar and a little milk.”

“Might as well get a latte at that point.”

“I’m not made of money.”

“What lattes do you like?”

“I don’t know. Sweet ones. The bitter stuff is too much on my tongue.” It probably wasn’t healthy but he liked it really sweet because it helped overpower the bitterness he could taste much more clearly than an ordinary person.

Peter chuckled. “Okay. Noted.”

Sonny scanned Peter up and down. Where did he keep the knife? He probably didn’t have it on him in court. It wouldn’t get through security. Maybe he didn’t use knives. He could have easily slipped poison into those drinks or through touch or something. He could even strangle him or snap his neck if he wanted. However it happened, Sonny hoped it was quick and not too painful.

After the cab arrived at his building and Peter helped him up to his floor, Sonny realized that no one else would see him again.

“Look,” he said as they trudged down the hall. “I know what’s going to happen, but I need you to pass on a message.”

“What message?”

“Tell Liv I did everything I could. I have Mets tickets in my drawer for Fin. Amanda can get the lasagna recipe from my ma. And tell my ma,” he closed his eyes, swallowing, “tell her I love her … and I’m sorry.”

They stopped at Sonny’s apartment.

“Where are your keys?” Peter asked.

Sonny pulled them from his pocket and watched as Peter unlocked the door. “You got the message?”

The door swung open and Peter helped him inside. “Yeah. I got it. Honestly not sure how the last one will work.”

“She’ll probably find you,” Sonny said as Peter laid him carefully on his couch in the living room.

“Okay,” he said, standing and pulling a trash can over. “You can talk, so you’re probably going to be fine. Just stay on your side like that and the trash can is right here when you need it.”

Before Sonny could process a response, Peter had walked out, carefully closing the door behind him.

 _Dying alone then_ , he thought before he drifted off.


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny is still unsure where he stands with Peter — until Peter is attacked and he learns the truth.

Sonny woke up in the morning with a dry throat and a splitting headache. He groaned and rubbed his temples. Well, at least he was alive.

He froze. He shouldn’t be alive. The memories were fuzzy but they were there. Peter had him alone, cornered and weakened, and he just did nothing. If anything, he had made sure Sonny was safe instead.

That could only mean two things, one much less likely than the other. First option was that Peter truly believed in the treaty and wanted to see it upheld. He didn’t want to kill just because he could. The second option, a very distant possibility, was that Peter just had absolutely no idea about the supernatural. Sonny found it hard to believe that someone as dedicated as Anne Stone wouldn’t at least tell her son about his heritage, even if he hadn’t been trained. And if that were the case, surely he would have at least found out from his sister.

Sonny carefully sat up and stretched, checking the time. It was around 6 a.m. Good. He had plenty of time before the final closing arguments in Mia’s case, which were scheduled for 9 a.m.

He took his time getting ready, nursing his hangover. He needed coffee.

When Sonny arrived early at the courthouse, Peter handed him a latte.

“You didn’t have to,” Sonny said, carefully accepting the cup. He briefly wondered if it could be poisoned, but after last night, it was unlikely. Peter really was just being nice, maybe _because_ he was a hunter. He had wanted to show Sonny he wasn’t a threat.

Peter shrugs. “You’re probably a little hungover. Least I could do.”

He sighed, still ashamed he let things get that far. “Can we just … not talk about it?”

He gave a friendly smile. “Already forgotten.”

Sonny nodded, taking a sip of the latte. It was exactly what he liked, sweet and smooth with a decent amount of milk. “This is good. Thanks.”

Peter’s smile widened. “Of course. You should drink up. We’re in court in 30 minutes.”

He nodded, wishing he could savor the drink, but being in court with Mia and Teresa was way more important.

* * *

After Mia’s attacker was convicted, things between Peter and Sonny were much better in the following weeks. Peter wondered if Sonny’s drunken night had anything to do with it. It probably didn’t hurt that he had succeeded in putting his niece’s rapist behind bars either.

Sonny stopped trying to distance himself as much. He still avoided being alone with him for the most part, but he accepted Peter’s gifts and invites to group settings. He usually smiled when he saw Peter too. The icy glare was finally gone, and instead Peter finally got to see the friendly Sonny. He hadn’t yet made it to the homemade meals level, but with the way things were going, Peter figured he’d get there eventually.

Peter relished any time that Sonny would spend with him. He liked talking to him and hearing his brilliant mind at work. He was an amazing detective and deserved more praise than he usually received.

“So, what would you do then?” Peter asked as they walked along the street toward the court house.

Sonny shrugged. “Probably exactly what you did. It’s not that complicated of a case.”

“Okay. What about-“

Peter suddenly lost his balance as he was slammed against the wall of a nearby building. He blinked, jostled, trying to get his bearings as a man held his arms tightly behind his back.

He wanted to offer his wallet to the potential mugger, or mention that he was literally with a police officer, but Sonny beat him to it.

“What the _hell_ are you _thinking_?” He growled.

Peter could hear a struggle and the pressure on his arms released. He straightened, backing away from the wall, rubbing his head where it had collided with brick.

He turned, eyes focusing to see Sonny holding another man against the wall in a similar position he had just been in. Sonny spoke lowly into the stranger’s ear, but Peter was close enough to make out the words.

“Are you _stupid?_ ” Sonny demanded. “Attacking in broad daylight?”

“I was supposed to have back up,” the stranger said, words slightly obscured with his face pressed into the wall. “What are you doing protecting him?”

“I’m protecting _you_. What was your plan? Take him and kill him? Then what? Not only would that be a violation of the treaty, the NYPD would be all over your ass for murdering an ADA.”

He huffed. “Whatever. It would be worth it.”

Sonny actually … _snarled_ at that. “You better run when I let you go or I’ll punish you myself.”

“Fine,” he spat.

Sonny released him, glaring at the man as he pushed away from the wall. He didn’t make eye contact as he walked away.

Peter frowned. “Why didn’t you arrest him?”

“Because that would open a whole other can of worms,” Sonny replied, still watching the man walk down the street.

“What do you mean?” The rest of Sonny’s conversation replayed in Peter’s head. It wasn’t the conversation you expected to hear when a cop intervened in an attack. “You really thought he would kill me? I don’t know him.”

Sonny turned to face Peter. “You know why because …” He trailed off, studying him. Peter felt uncomfortable under such an intense gaze. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“No idea about _what_ , Sonny? All I know is this man attacked me and you just let him go.”

Sonny took in a controlled breath. “Okay. How close were you with your mom?”

“What does my mother have to do with this?”

“Please just answer the question.”

Peter paused, at a loss. This was making less and less sense. But Sonny’s eyes told him he genuinely wanted to know the answer, no matter how out of place the question seemed.

“Not very,” Peter said after a moment. “We weren’t close really at all. But I don’t see what this has to do-“

“How do you get home usually?”

“What are you-“

“If you answer, this will go a lot faster.”

He paused. “Subway, usually. But can you just tell me why you’re asking me this?”

Sonny shook his head. “You really have _no_ idea. Okay. Well, we can’t have you in the city, completely ignorant and defenseless.” He sighed. “This is probably really confusing for you right now, but there’s not enough time to explain. I’ll escort you to the courthouse. Don’t be anywhere alone until I come and get you at the end of the day.”

“You think I’m in danger?”

“Probably not, but better play it safe. I don’t know what the other pa- I’ll explain tonight, okay? Call me if you run into any problems.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, a million questions circling in his mind.

* * *

After Sonny had safely escorted Peter to the court house, he wondered about calling his mother. He should report what Matthew attempted. Breaking the treaty was serious and he got away lucky. Sonny shivered to think what could have happened if he hadn’t been there.

Peter was in danger for as long as the wolves thought he was a threat. Matthew was a part of Sonny’s pack, so he was able to order him away. But Anne Stone had killed a member of every other pack as well. Sonny had no idea what they were planning, if at all.

Telling his mother about this development could help calm the waters. The other leaders would listen to her and give their own orders. Problem was Sonny didn’t have enough evidence. Who would believe that Peter was not a threat?

Not Sonny’s ma, that’s for sure. She had been watching him carefully ever since they heard he had returned. For any message to the packs to work, Sonny would have to hear it from Peter himself.

Sonny just hoped no one else tried anything stupid before he could ask him about it.

* * *

Peter was on edge for the rest of the day, jumping at shadows around every corner. He had no idea what to expect or if anyone else would suddenly appear to grab him. He was strong and could probably fight them off, but the man on the street had caught him unaware.

It felt odd to have what seemed like a credible threat against him, yet not report it. Sonny hadn’t rushed to do so. There must be a reason for it. But unfortunately, many of the scenarios spinning in his head didn’t look great for the detective. The worst one was possible mob ties — but, then again, what would the mob care about Peter?

“Everything okay, Peter?” Liv asked as they walked back to the DA’s office after a hearing.

He blinked, then smiled. “Yeah. All good.”

“Okay. I’m here if you need to talk.”

He nodded. “Really. I’m fine. Sorry for tuning out there.”

“How’s your sister?” She asked gently.

He paused at that. He hadn’t given Pam much thought all day. For whatever reason, Liv had been the only person he felt comfortable enough to tell about her diagnosis. 

“She’s okay,” Peter said. There hadn’t been much change during his latest visits, though she recognized Peter now. “Really. I’m fine. Just a busy day.”

She nodded. “I can understand that.”

Peter attempted to focus on the present as they walked, but he remained on high alert. Every stranger brushing past appeared as a threat to him. He really hoped Sonny had a good explanation for what had happened.

* * *

Finally, the day was nearly over. Sonny was off shift and able to pick Peter up to get him home safely. As he turned the corner toward Peter’s office, some of the stress of the situation evaporated from him. He was back in control now. He could protect Peter until he got some answers.

Then, his phone rang, and he knew what that ringtone meant. His mother.

He sighed and answered. “Hey ma, look, I can’t talk right now.”

She wasted no time, as usual. “Do you want to tell me why I had to hear about what happened today from Matthew?”

He suppressed a deep sigh. He should have sworn the wolf to silence. “It’s complicated, ma. I’ll know more in the next few hours.”

“You did good, Sonny, but you should have told me.”

“I think there’s more to it, which is why I didn’t say anything before I had all the facts.”

She paused. Sonny could see her slight frown in his mind’s eye as she considered. “I trust you. Tell me what’s happening.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Okay. See you later?”

“Yeah. I’ll come over tonight,” he promised and then hung up.

They avoided speaking too specifically on the phone. There was a history of humans thinking the packs were criminal organizations, and no one ever believed the truth. But this short exchange would be enough to confirm to his mother that Sonny was safe.

He made a mental note to speak with Matthew later. He didn’t need him stirring up more trouble. Then, Sonny took in a breath and continued walking toward Peter.

* * *

“Is the squad car really necessary?” Peter asked as Sonny held the door open for him.

“Yes. It’ll hopefully scare anybody else off.”

Peter nodded and climbed in. He waited until Sonny had settled into the driver’s seat before speaking again. “You really think I’m in danger.”

“Like I said, better safe than sorry. I can’t control everyone in the city.”

It sounded reasonable, but if there was a credible threat, why hadn’t Sonny reported it? Why wasn’t there an investigation? Shouldn’t he be in protective custody?

Peter didn’t say anything as Sonny drove him home. Peter’s building had a parking garage, but Sonny parked out on the street instead. It wasn’t likely the building would complain about a police car.

“Who is trying to get to me?” Peter asked.

Sonny shook his head. “I’ll explain when we get upstairs.”

He hated waiting, but what was a few more minutes after a day of anxiety? Peter nodded and led Sonny up to his floor. On the way up, he noticed Sonny carefully scanning the lobby, the elevator, and then the hallway toward his door. It felt oddly similar to when security would tail him when he was in the Majors.

As they stepped into Peter’s apartment, Sonny put out an arm to hold Peter back. “Stay here while I take a look around.”

“You can’t be serious,” Peter said. If Sonny was worried someone had broken into his apartment, the threat was _much_ bigger than Peter had imagined.

“Just go with me. Stay here.”

Peter obeyed and waited awkwardly while Sonny scanned every room in his apartment. He felt oddly exposed knowing that he would see his entire living space, but it only took a couple minutes for Sonny to sound the all clear.

“ _Now_ will you tell me what’s going on?” Peter asked.

Sonny just moved toward the kitchen, opening cabinets. “You got food here?”

“Yeah. Not much. I’m due for groceries.”

Sonny found a box of pasta and set it on the counter. “You have enough for some rotini and vegetables, looks like. I’ll make us some dinner while we talk.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Sonny met his eyes, giving a small smile. “Just sit down and listen to me, will you?”

It was Sonny being friendly, even if he looked a little worried at the same time. Peter never thought Sonny would be in his home making him dinner this soon, but if he got answers out of it, so be it.

Peter sat at the bar facing the kitchen as Sonny put water on the stove to boil. “Who exactly is after me?”

“Let’s back up a bit here,” Sonny said, pulling his keys, wallet and phone out of his pockets to set on the bar. “It’ll make more sense that way. You said you weren’t close with your mother.”

“No, I wasn’t. But what does that have to do with this?”

Sonny took in a breath, meeting his gaze seriously before he spoke. “She’s from a long line of werewolf hunters.”

“What?” Peter laughed. “That-“ But Sonny didn’t break. “You’re serious.” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “Though we don’t refer to ourselves as werewolves, but supernatural politics can wait for another day.”

He frowned. “You’re not joking.” Surely he wouldn’t make light of a situation like this. “This isn’t a prank on the new guy.”

“Unfortunately, no. This is totally serious.”

Pamela flashed into Peter’s mind. He briefly wondered if Sonny was also suffering from delusions.

Sonny nodded. “I get it. It’s a lot, and you need proof before you suddenly believe in something you thought was fictional your whole life.”

“You have proof?”

Sonny picked up his phone and thumbed through a few menus. Then, he set it back on the bar in front of Peter. “There’s a few photos and videos on here of me and my sisters if you want a look.”

“Your sisters are werewolves too?”

“Yeah. I was born this way. We got it all from our ma.”

Peter carefully picked up the phone. Sonny turned away to begin preparing the vegetables. 

Peter hit play on the video Sonny had queued up. It started with Sonny on screen, talking to someone else off camera. “It happens in about three seconds, I promise. I’m recording for evidence.” There was a reply Peter couldn’t quite make out. Sonny rolled his eyes and then just … _changed_ into a full life size wolf. The wolf let out a short bark and pranced around.

Peter’s first instinct was that it was some kind of special effect, but that wasn’t stock footage of a wolf. It was still in the same backyard that Sonny had started in. There was very small chance that Sonny had access to the kind of technology that would allow him to create this level of sophisticated special effects, and any project like this would require access to an actual wolf too. Overall, it looked like an amateur home video recorded on a phone.

He looked up at Sonny, who smiled. “Yeah. That’s really me. Promise.”

Peter thumbed through the next few photos. They were of Sonny with his sisters and presumably other family, with various wolves among them. There was another video of wolves wrestling and playing in the grass too. These looked smaller, maybe children? 

He set the phone down and took in a breath. “Okay. Say I believe you. My mother hunted werewolves?”

“Yeah. She was pretty good at it too. Took out four wolves within a month once.”

“How do you know it was her?”

Peter half expected Sonny to get angry, but he didn’t. He just looked mournful as he pulled something else out of his pocket. It clanged against the counter as he set it in front of Peter. It was a small piece of silver metal, about the size of a keychain. Incredibly similar to the ones his mother would have around, but there was a detail he hadn’t noticed before. This one had initials engraved into it: _A.S._

“It’s a calling card hunters use,” Sonny explained. “It’s where the myth about silver comes from. It’s a warning. Sometimes, they’ll leave the initials of the hunter responsible, but not always. This kinda thing worked better for them before fingerprint and DNA analysis.”

“Did you test it for that?”

“I don’t know. I was barely seventeen when all this went down, but I’d guess the packs didn’t bother. It was a clear pattern and the hunters were taking credit.”

“This happened in the ‘90s?” Peter asked.

Sonny nodded.

“So, before the car accident. But … it wasn’t an accident, was it?”

He shook his head. “No. It wasn’t.”

Peter sat back on the stool, processing. Pamela had been right. Something had been wrong about the crash, but wouldn’t they have found evidence of tampering or something else that could have caused the accident? They must have covered their tracks well.

“Were you involved in this?” Peter asked.

“No,” Sonny replied. “Like I said, I was barely seventeen. I wasn’t involved in decisions like this. But I disagreed with the idea at the time and still do. I know she killed people, but it wasn’t fair of us to hurt your family like that, not when we had the treaty. There were other options.”

The gears in Peter’s head were still turning, piecing together his experiences. “This is why that man attacked me today. And why you didn’t want to talk to me when I first started. Do you think I could do something like that?”

Sonny gave a small smile. “No. Not anymore. But when you came back to the city, I didn’t know what to think. I assumed your mom had trained you, like she did your sister. And she was brutal, Peter. No other hunter in recent history had taken out that many wolves. And if she had raised you, then …”

“Then it was a reasonable assumption,” Peter said, feeling sick over the idea that Sonny would think he had the capacity to kill. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Sonny laughed. “You’re apologizing? This is not how I thought this would go.”

“I made you uncomfortable for months. It’s the least I can do. If I had known, I would have said something sooner.”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah. That’s really good to know.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Sonny finished up their meal. Peter replayed pieces of their conversation back, trying to understand it all.

“You said there was a treaty,” he said as Sonny plated the food.

“Yeah. Give me a second,” Sonny said, sliding Peter’s bowl across the counter. Sonny set a second one beside it and then walked around the bar to sit next to Peter.

“It’s an agreement between the hunters and the wolf packs,” he continued as he began eating. “A truce basically. No one will attack first, and if someone does, it lays out the repercussions.”

“And that’s why you don’t go to the police.”

“We don’t involve humans in our problems. They wouldn’t believe us, and if they did, they wouldn’t know how to handle it. The treaty is relatively new in our history. My grandmother was the one who led the charge in getting everyone to sign on. She was tired of the senseless deaths.”

“They just keep coming for you and your family? Why?”

Sonny shrugged. “Because they can. They hate us. They don’t believe we should exist. They won’t stop.”

“But they agreed to the treaty.”

“Only because we can strike back, and often do.” Sonny sighed. “Look, I support the treaty, I do. I think there has to be a path to a peaceful resolution, but people like your mother can’t be stopped by an agreement.”

“That’s in the treaty? The car accident?”

“Well, it doesn’t specify that only car accidents are okay,” Sonny said around a mouthful. He swallowed and continued, “But the treaty does lay out steps to take if an attack occurs. Usually, the first one is a tribunal. It’s kinda like a trial. It’s meant to be used as a fact-finding thing, to see what exactly happened. Then, a panel of judges from both sides decides what to do. But the treaty also specifies that either side can defend themselves after an attack, so we often don’t get to the next step.”

“So it’s just sanctioned murder now.”

“No. I’m sorry you lost your mother like this, but it’s not like that. The treaty was written that way because the hunters would never agree to it otherwise, but we never attack first. Literally never. It’s in our oral histories and all of our records. It’s always them first, and we always have to fight back.”

He paused. “How long has this been going on?”

Sonny shrugged. “Forever. As long as we’ve existed, really.” He glanced at Peter’s plate. “You should eat. I’m a little biased, but it’s pretty good,” he said with a smile.

Peter smiled back, heart skipping a beat at the attention. He picked up his fork, still turning through their conversation. If what Sonny said is true, and the hunters, _his family_ , only killed out of hate, Peter could understand why Sonny’s family had responded the way they did. He didn’t like that it was a murder, but he also didn’t like the idea of anyone indiscriminately killing people just because they were alive.

“You said earlier you don’t call yourselves werewolves,” Peter said after a bite. “What’s the correct word?”

He chuckled. “I tell you some serious shit about your family and all you want to know is how to be politically correct?”

“As long as we’re talking about this, I should use the right terminology.”

Sonny smiled, and for the first time during the entire conversation, it was actually his genuine, bright smile. “That’s fair. We just call ourselves wolves. ‘Werewolf’ is kind of a slur and we haven’t gotten around to reclaiming it yet.”

“See, now I’m glad I asked.”

Sonny studied him for a moment. “You’re not at least tempted to go find the other hunters, join their ranks?”

“I’m not interested in killing people, whether it’s my heritage or not.”

He hummed. “Maybe that’s how we get rid of the hunters, just stop raising them to kill.”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s not in your control.”

“Maybe we can put it in the next treaty.”

“You really think they’ll agree to that?”

“Worth a shot.”

“Have there been any attacks since then, with my mother?”

“Aside from today? No. It’s been a stalemate ever since.”

Peter frowned. “Today? That counts as an attack?”

Sonny winced. “Technically, yeah. You would be within your rights to invoke the treaty, but I assure you he’ll be punished.”

“I’m not- Why would I do that? You stopped it and say you’re handling it.” He sighed. “It’s complicated, I’m seeing that, but as far as it stands right now, I’m on your side. No one should have to die.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Sonny raised his eyebrows.

“If I’m graded on whether or not I want to kill anyone, that’s a pretty low bar to clear. It’s basic human decency. It should just be … expected.”

Sonny smiled. “Still, glad I can call you a friend.”

“Of course you can,” Peter responded, turning to his meal. “I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

* * *

Later that night, Sonny paused outside the Carisi family home. He needed a minute before he went in to confront his ma.

Peter was his friend. He smiled at the idea. He was kind, caring and compassionate in all the best ways. Sonny found himself looking forward to getting to know him better, especially now that he knew for certain he wasn’t a threat.

But would his ma and the packs believe what he had to say? Would they call off their attack dogs? He understood where they were coming from. It was hard for Sonny even now to look at Peter without thinking about what his mother had done, how she had murdered four people, including Eva. Losing a pack member is not something wolves get over easily.

Then, the front door opened and Dominick Carisi Sr. peered out into the darkness. “Sonny? What are you doing out here?”

He sighed. “Thinking.”

“Come inside, won’t you?”

He nodded and stepped into the house. His dad closed and locked the door behind them.

“Just ruminating in the dark, huh?” He asked.

Sonny nodded. “Lots to think about lately.”

“Because of the hunter boy?”

“He’s hardly a boy. That’s the problem.”

“You’re a smart one. You’ll figure it out.” He squeezed Sonny’s shoulder. “Sometimes I wish you didn’t have to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Sonny smiled. “I’m really okay, pops. Just been more than usual lately.”

He nodded and released his son. “Be careful out there. I don’t care about what the packs want, just don’t be stupid.”

He laughed. “You just said I was smart, right? I’ll be okay.”

Dominick offered a bright smile. “I know you will. She’s in the study.”

“Thanks,” Sonny said as he turned in that direction. 

He quickly headed down the stairs into the basement, taking them two at a time. The basement had been repurposed into a home office, with carpet, proper lighting, and lots of storage for pack records. He found his mother there, sitting at the desk poring over notebooks and papers.

She didn’t look up when Sonny approached. “One moment, Sonny dear.”

He nodded and stood patiently beside her. Wolves could easily sense other people around them, especially other wolves. Mariela Carisi’s hearing was exceptional though, and she had probably heard him talking with his father upstairs.

It was a few minutes before she looked up at her son. “What do you have?”

“Peter Stone is not a threat,” he said.

She scoffed. “This is what you were investigating?”

He nodded. “I know it’s hard to believe. I get it, but he had absolutely no idea about the supernatural until today.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t just what he _wants_ you to believe?”

He shook his head. “I’m a detective, ma. I know how to read people. Peter is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met, and no one can lie about something this big for this long and still be _that_ convincing, training or not.”

As he expected, she did not look impressed.

Sonny pulled up a chair to sit near her. “Let’s look at the facts. He isn’t associating with the clan. He has worked with me for months without a word, whether a warning or otherwise. And today, he was taken completely off guard by a cub lashing out in anger. And _I_ had to rescue _him_.”

“He’s still visiting his sister, who we know was trained.”

“If Gina or Bella had a mental illness and needed around the clock care, I would go see them. Because they’re family. He has no idea what she’s capable of.”

“And he told you as much?”

“Yes, and he told me explicitly himself that he has no interest in harming anyone. He even asked why we don’t call ourselves _werewolves_ , ma. He’s not a threat.”

“I’ll have to hear the recording for myself before I make a judgement.”

He nodded. He had expected as much, but his stomach still sank. Recording their conversations, especially with known threats, was standard practice to protect the pack, but Sonny felt a little antsy about spying on his friend. 

“You can’t just go by my word,” he said.

“I trust you, Sonny. But I need to hear him say it.”

“And when you do? Will you call off the packs?”

She patted his cheek, giving a comforting smile. “I’ll make a decision after I’ve heard all the evidence.”

He nodded. “I vote for a statement to the other packs, explaining the situation and calling their members off the ledge.”

“I accept your recommendation. Please drop the file off before you leave.”

And with that, she turned back to her desk, picking up a pen. Sonny pulled out his phone and sent the file to their secure server in three taps. 

On his way out, Sonny nodded to his dad as he passed him. After he stepped out side, he paused on the porch again.

Sonny knew his mom had a big job. She had to not only protect their family, but also the families of hundreds of other wolves all across the city. She needed to be careful, and always was. But was just trusting her son’s word — the person she had picked to succeed her — too much to ask?

Most days, Sonny felt ready to step up to lead. But days like this, where she tested his patience, always made him wonder if he ever would be.

* * *

Peter was still jumping at shadows when he arrived at work the next morning. Sonny had said it was unlikely anyone else would strike in the night, but Peter couldn’t be too sure. The last person that had attacked him had done it in broad daylight, assuming Sonny would _help_. Peter didn’t know how far the packs would go to protect themselves. Peter didn’t blame them, but he hated being labeled a threat when he wasn’t one.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to be in court until the late morning. It was unlikely a wolf would try anything in the DA’s office. Peter settled in at his desk, sorting through case files.

About an hour later, Sonny walked in. “You’re in the clear.”

“Really?” He asked, noticing Sonny had carefully closed the door before he spoke. Carmen didn’t know then.

“Yep. The packs got a notice this morning, saying clearly that you are not a threat and you shouldn’t be bothered with. You’re just an ordinary human to us now.”

Peter smiled. “Never been so happy to be ordinary before.”

“It’s a good thing, trust me. I was a little concerned my ma wouldn’t be able to accept it.”

“It was your mother’s decision?”

“Well, yes and no,” Sonny replied, shifting on his feet. “She doesn’t have absolute authority over the other packs, but they all listen to her. Our family has had big influence for decades.”

Peter studied Sonny, who was obviously uncomfortable talking about the power he had. That was why the other wolf who had attacked listened to him. “So, you’re basically the prince of the wolves, huh?”

Sonny laughed. “Not quite, but I am the heir to leadership, whenever my ma steps down or dies.”

“You’re next in line.”

“Yeah,” he said, staring at Peter with an inscrutable look. “Look, I better go or I’ll be late.”

“Go. Thanks for coming to tell me. I don’t need Liv upset with me for keeping one of her detectives.”

Sonny grinned. “Appreciate it. See you later.”

Peter breathed a sigh of relief when Sonny was gone. He was safe. He could go back to work. But as he turned back to his case files, a million other questions about the wolves, the packs and the hunters swirled in his head. He’d have to make time to ask Sonny more about everything.


	4. Three

A couple weeks went by without either Sonny or Peter finding much time to sleep, let alone spend time talking about the supernatural. Sonny knew Peter probably still had questions. It was all new to him, but their work continued to get in the way.

Sonny was thankful that he could get by on slightly less sleep than the average human, especially if he slept in wolf form. It was a habit that had helped him get through college and law school, and one so well ingrained that in times of stress, his body automatically changed when he fell asleep. While that helped, it was still jarring to wake up as a wolf and not remember the transformation.

But it wasn’t a cure-all. Sonny blinked as he had started to nod off at his desk. It was unlikely he would change at the precinct. He typically only transformed when he hit deep sleep and he doubted he’d get there at work.

He stood, taking a few minutes to drink his caffeine-laden coffee. He still needed real sleep at some point. Over the past couple weeks, his best night had only been barely five hours. It starting to add up.

He was so tired he didn’t even sense Peter until he was standing right in front of him. 

“Oh. Hey,” Sonny said.

“Hey,” Peter said. He was smiling, but it was his soft and worried one. The one that held back his concerns.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to cut off Peter’s objections before he voiced them. “Just need coffee.”

He frowned. “I-no. That’s not actually…” Peter trailed off, glancing around like someone might overhear.

Sonny stood a little taller, the world snapping back into focus. He kept a close watch, listening to carefully to his surroundings while still watching Peter as he stepped closer.

“Should you be working today?” Peter asked softly, barely above a whisper.

He frowned. If Peter was worried about his health, he didn’t need to be so secretive about it. “I’m sure you haven’t gotten much sleep this past week either.”

“I haven’t, but you-“ His voice dropped down even quieter. “It’s the full moon tonight.”

Sonny stared at Peter for a long moment. What did the moon have to do with anything? Everyone on the squad needed more sleep than they were getting. The moon didn’t-

Then it clicked, and Sonny doubled over laughing.

“What?” Peter asked.

Sonny shook his head. “No, no, no, Peter-“ He said, trying to speak as the waves of laughter continued to rush through him. He must have been slightly delirious. He could barely breathe now.

Peter crossed his arms, waiting for Sonny to get over it.

A full minute later, Sonny stood, finally done with the laughing fit. “That’s not-“ He grinned. “The full moon is a myth.”

He frowned. “Then how often do you change?”

He shrugged. “Whenever we feel like it, once we learn how.”

“So you don’t … lose control?”

“Oh no, we can. It’s just not on a regular schedule, though that would be much easier to deal with honestly. It’s not that easy to predict.”

Peter sighed. “Okay. Hopefully this week is slightly better because I clearly need a download on what’s fact and fiction at some point.”

Sonny smiled. “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry it couldn’t have happened sooner. If I get off at a decent time today, how about we get a drink and talk?”

He nodded. “I’d appreciate that, but you should probably get some rest.”

He waved a hand. “I will. Don’t worry. This is important.”

* * *

“Okay,” Peter said later that night in the bar. “Silver and the full moon are myths.”

Sonny had recommended the location. Apparently this establishment was frequented by the supernatural, so they could speak freely. Peter still felt a little awkward. He’d never exactly discussed supernatural myths with someone over drinks.

“Well, silver being the _only_ way to kill us is a myth,” Sonny replied over his drink. “Though, being exposed to too much of it has some negative effects, but that’s just like every other person on Earth. I can still die all the ways a normal human can, plus some extras. The hunters still leave warnings in silver, like that thing I showed you.”

Peter nodded. He still wondered why his father had a similar piece of metal with him at the hospital. Maybe he could ask Sonny about it later. 

For now, he still had more questions about the mythology. “And you don’t … eat people?”

Sonny laughed. “Nah. We will sometimes hunt in wolf form, but it’s usually small animals. And most wolves, especially in the city, don’t do that. We eat food normal humans eat.”

“Do _you_ hunt?”

“Nope. Never found it appealing. You don’t really lose all of your faculties as a wolf, though you are mostly running on instinct and intuition. But your memories, personality and morality are all still there. I don’t want to kill as a person, so I don’t as a wolf.”

“But you could lose control.”

Sonny shook his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. Sometimes stress or trauma can lock someone in their wolf form, or it could lock someone out of it. But that’s like saying a victim will attack and kill because they were hurt. Maybe in self defense, but not just because.”

“So, it’s an added complication in reaction to trauma,” Peter said, working through all the implications of that. “But you’re a detective, on the streets. You’ve been shot at and almost killed.”

“Yeah. So has everyone else on the squad. Do you see any of them curling up in a ball?”

 _That’s not fair to you_ , Peter thought. As the youngest on the squad, and the only one without children, Sonny often threw himself into danger first. Now Peter realized that was also because he was a wolf. His extra strength and improved senses had probably helped the squad out of jams before. But none of that made Sonny impervious and none of that made any of those experiences suddenly vanish.

“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Peter said, “and it’s okay if you’re not.”

Sonny paused at that. “Some days are harder than others, but it’s been a little easier lately. Just knowing someone else knows about all this.”

“No one else on the squad knows?”

“As far as I know, no. Fin I’m sure knows nothing. Sometimes Amanda gives me a look like she might understand what else is happening, but that could just be her. Higher ups in the Department know all about the supernatural, but I don’t think anyone filled Liv in. Or if they did, she hasn’t asked me about it. She isn’t treating me any differently either.”

“This is what you do every day? Second guess who’s in the loop?”

“Nah. Most of the time I don’t think about it. That got a little harder when I thought you were an actual hunter, but it’s okay now.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, still feeling guilty for those long months of leaving Sonny in the dark.

“What did I say before? You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault your mom didn’t fill you in.”

He nodded, his thoughts flashing to Pam and Bay View for a moment before he pushed them away. “What about _your_ family? You said they’re all wolves, right?”

“Yep. We all got it from our ma.”

“So being a wolf, it’s genetic.”

“Essentially, but someone can still be turned. It just takes a bite, and the process is painful, but that’s what my dad did.”

“Your father was human?”

“Before he met my ma, yeah. The story goes that he couldn’t bear to be without her, so she turned him after they got married. And now they have cute little wolf babies.”

"That sounds like a charming story," Peter laughed. "But you sound a little out of it. Drinking while sleep deprived may not have been the best idea."

Sonny smiled. “I’ll be fine. Just a couple drinks this time, promise. But yeah, you can inherit it, or be turned. The packs tend to keep a tight leash on who can turn who though. But every pack has its own criteria and some packs, especially upstate, will turn people just to shore up their numbers. That’s a big deal in Chicago too.”

Peter started. “Chicago has wolves too?”

“Yeah. The population is spread out through the entire world, the whole country. It’s more concentrated in some areas than others, usually cities, just like humans.” Sonny chuckled. “It could be its own category on the census: Lupine American.”

Peter laughed. “Would you want that? Is there a reason it’s kept secret?”

Sonny shrugged. “Most humans wouldn’t believe it anyway, so it’s easier not to bring it up.”

“Even if they saw someone transform?”

“ _Especially_ then. Humans have the great gift of being able to deny something right in front of them if it doesn’t fit their worldview. Look at what happens to rape victims. There’s no way people would suddenly believe in werewolves.”

"Okay, yeah. I can see that, but let's say that everyone knew it for a fact. Would it make your life easier or harder? If everyone knew?"

"Harder, probably. Look at what the hunters do. And they’re just a small cult that passes down through the generations.”

Peter nodded. He was probably right. The existence of the hunters didn’t give a great indication of what could happen if most of the world knew about them.

“Are there other … supernatural creatures out there? Like, other than wolves?”

Sonny grinned. “Amazing it took you this long to get there. Yeah. There’s also vampires and I’m pretty sure incubuses exist. Or is it incubi? I dunno. Vampires that feed on sex.”

“What? Really? Are there any in New York? That kinda seems important to know, especially in SVU.”

He waved a hand. “Nah. Those are exceedingly rare. Most vampires _themselves_ think they’re a myth, according to one I know.”

“You know vampires?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, totally. We all get together over tea once a month.”

Peter sighed. “I’m trying to get information here.”

He laughed. “Sorry. Yeah, I know a couple, and you already met one of them that I can think of.”

“I’ve _met_ one and you didn’t tell me?”

“Back when it happened, I kinda thought you already knew everything. But now,” Sonny gave a devious smile, “I just wanna see if you can guess.”

“I’m going to need more of a hint than that. If that’s true, vampires don’t look that different from ordinary humans.”

“Well, the stereotype is somewhat accurate. Vampires actually _do_ tend to be lawyers.”

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down. My whole job is talking to lawyers.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll point them out if I see any. They’re not that common because they’re really good at hiding and laying low. They don’t like drawing attention, so you won’t run into trouble from them.”

“Not like the hunters.”

“Right. The treaty has stopped the hunters so far, but I wonder if you being back in the city has changed anything for them too.”

A fierce protective instinct rose in Peter’s chest. He didn’t want anyone to hurt Sonny, not if he could help it. “Would it help if I contacted them somehow? Explained some things?”

Sonny shook his head. “Unlikely. You’d just be making yourself a target for them. They would try to recruit you and you don’t need that.”

Peter nodded. He was curious about the hunters and his heritage, but if Sonny didn’t think they could be convinced, he would trust his judgement. 

“So then we just sit back and hope they don’t hurt you?” Peter asked.

Sonny chuckled. “You don’t need to worry. First of all, the pack protects all its members. Second, I can take on any hunter no problem.”

The casual confidence was alluring on Sonny. Peter found himself smiling. “No problem, huh?”

“Yep. We train too. I’m all set.”

“Maybe you should teach me some moves.”

He grinned. “Maybe. Totally could.”

Peter smiled and settled into his seat. It was comfortable, sitting here with Sonny. Almost like it was meant to be.

* * *

If anyone asked Sonny about his job, about how hard it could be at times, he would say that there were good days and bad days. But that wasn’t usually true. Some days were harder than others, yes, but many days were neither all good or all bad. It was usually some frustrating in-between. Like today. They caught a kidnapper who was for sure going away for life, but the child he had taken was dead on arrival.

Too late to do anything but mourn. Sonny had been the one to tell the family. It was the least he could do after he had failed to save their son.

In a way, the hard days were easier. If it was all bad, like if the kidnapper had escaped somehow, it was easy to rail against the cruelty of the world. To curse God for allowing it all to happen. But days like this — where a situation was in their control, but they still failed where it absolutely mattered — were what Sonny was sure would break him eventually.

Benson sent them home after they had notified the parents. Sonny didn’t want to go back to his apartment. He didn’t want to be alone, but everyone else on the squad had gone home to their families. They all needed to be with their children after a case like this.

As Sonny walked, he thought about his little nieces and nephews, but he didn’t fear for their safety from an ordinary human. They would just change and attack. It was the first skill any of the wolves learned. The transformation in itself should throw off any attacker with no knowledge of the supernatural. And if that failed, the rest of the pack would find them and eliminate the threat.

Sonny didn’t worry about his own family. He worried about everyone else’s. Because humans didn’t have a pack of wolves at the ready if they were in danger. They just had him, and he failed more often than not.

“Sonny?” Peter asked when he saw him at the door.

Sonny blinked, not realizing he had been walking to Peter’s office. “Uh, hi. Sorry. I didn’t- I can go if you’re busy.”

“No, it’s okay.” He gestured to the couch. “Come, take a seat.”

He obeyed, settling into the worn fabric. He let out a breath, feeling a little bit calmer with the company around.

Peter quietly sat next to him. “Is it anything you want to talk about?”

Sonny shook his head, staring at the wall instead of Peter. “No, but you’ll worry so I’ll explain. I found the lead that got us to the kidnapper, finally.”

“That’s ... good,” he said slowly, studying Sonny. “I know it’s been bothering you the past day or so.”

“Yeah. We found him, but it was too late for the kid.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Sonny closed his eyes. “If I had pieced it together even just _an hour_ earlier, he’d still be alive.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Liv already gave me that speech.”

A warm hand gently cupped his chin. Sonny turned his head as and opened his eyes to meet Peter's gaze. “It’s not your fault,” he repeated softly. “You did absolutely everything you could, and that’s usually more than what any other detective can do.”

“Yeah, I’m a wolf so …”

Peter shook his head. “No. Not because of that. You cracked this case when no one else could and basically half of the NYPD was on it. That’s something.”

“What does it matter if we can’t save anyone?”

“You did save someone.”

Sonny frowned.

Peter offered a soft smile. “The next one. You stopped this guy from hurting anyone else again for the rest of his life.”

He blinked and turned away as tears suddenly rushed to the surface. Peter was right. Of course he was. How could he have forgotten that? That’s all he set out to do every single day. Save people, even ones he didn’t know.

Sonny swallowed, clearing his throat. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with this today.”

“I’m okay.” He took in a deep breath. “Really.”

“Okay. You’re welcome to stay here for awhile if you’d like. I have a couple things to finish up.”

Sonny nodded, watching as Peter rose from the couch to shuffle some files on his desk. He felt a stab of loneliness at the idea of having to leave him for the night.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Sonny asked.

Peter looked up from his work. “Dinner?”

“Yeah. We only ever go for drinks.”

“Tonight?”

“If you want.” He regretted asking. Of course Peter didn’t want to hang out with him. But Sonny probably wouldn’t be great company after today anyway.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I’d love to get dinner with you, I really mean that.” Peter sighed. “But I … promised my sister I would see her. I go every Wednesday.”

“Oh,” Sonny said, remembering where Pamela Stone was. She probably needed the company more than him. “Of course. I don’t want you not to do that.”

Peter nodded. “It’ll be awhile, but if you’re going to be up late anyway, I could … bring some dinner back with me.”

He paused, unsure what to make of the idea. “You’d really do that just for me?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Got any special requests?”

“Um, no. Just … not Italian?”

Peter laughed. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

Sonny smiled. “I just don’t trust you to pick out a good place.”

He rolled his eyes. “One of these days, you’re going to have to give me a crash course in good Italian food.”

He gave a mock gasp. “And reveal all my secrets?”

He smiled. “Okay. If you insist. I’ll bring something back. It’ll be a few hours though.”

“That’s okay with me. And if you’re too tired after, we can do this another time.”

“I’ll be okay,” Peter sighed. “Honestly, most of the time after seeing her, I don’t want to be alone.”

Sonny nodded. He couldn’t understand what Peter was going through, but seeing the pain and sadness settle on him was enough. Peter deserved any piece of happiness he could get, and Sonny was glad he’d be able to help.

* * *

Later that night, Peter tried to slow his racing heart as he knocked on Sonny’s door. He took in a breath as he adjusted the takeout bag he’d picked up from a Chinese place in the neighborhood. He didn’t imagine he would be this nervous to see Sonny again, his stomach fluttering in anticipation.

Before Peter could think on why he felt this anxious, Sonny opened the door, greeting him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” Sonny said, waving him inside. “How did it go?”

Peter focused on stepping over the threshold, trying to shove down his nervous energy. “Uh, good. Good. Nothing unusual. She’s okay.”

“I’m glad,” Sonny said as he closed the door. “And that food smells awesome.”

He laughed. “Glad I picked something you like.”

“Yeah. That’s the place down the block, right? They’re one of my favorites.”

“Then it’s a great choice on my part,” Peter said as he set the bag on the table.

Sonny picked out a couple cartons for himself and Peter did the same. 

“How good are you with chopsticks?” Peter asked. 

Sonny shrugged. “I can use them without making a mess.”

“Can you?”

He smiled. “Is that a challenge?”

Peter pulled two sets of chopsticks from the bag. “I never eat Chinese without chopsticks.”

Sonny laughed and the sound warmed Peter’s heart, especially after seeing him so down earlier. 

“Okay,” Sonny said. “Challenge accepted.”

They both opened their chopsticks and began eating. Sonny was definitely better at using them than Peter. But he tried his best to hide his lack of skill for the longest he could. He may have been grandstanding but it was so good to see Sonny happy again. 

They chatted about other things for a few minutes as they ate, but eventually Sonny noticed.

“You don't seem to be eating much,” he said, tilting his head.

Peter smiled. “You caught me. Turns out I’m not so good with chopsticks.”

Sonny laughed. “So you’re just trying to make me feel better?”

“Is it working?”

Sonny smiled softly. “Yeah, a little.”

Peter smiled in return. “I’m glad.”

“You don’t need to be _this_ nice to me.”

“I’m your friend in your home after you had a hard day. You deserve a little kindness.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

Sonny sighed, sitting back in his chair.

Peter frowned. “What just happened?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just overthinking.”

“Overthinking what? Me?”

“I don't get why you’re here. You should hate me. Instead, you worry about the moon cycle and bring food after a long day.”

Peter paused at the anguish on Sonny’s face. “Is it really that hard ... because of my mother?”

“I wish it wasn't. I wish I could just look at you and see only you. But I can't. I ... I had a friend, probably the closest thing to a best friend I’ve ever had. And your mom killed her.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. “... I didn't realize you were that close.”

Sonny blinked as tears filled his eyes. “I mean, it wasn't exactly like that. I probably liked her more than she liked me but I still looked up to her in some ways. I had so many expectations placed on me all the time and there was Eva, just doing her thing, not letting anyone give her shit. I don't know why she was a target but she didn't even get to graduate high school. For ... for no reason.”

Peter moved instantly when he heard Sonny’s voice waver. He stood and stepped toward Sonny, pulling him into his arms without a second thought. Sonny sobbed into Peter’s shirt, pulling him even closer. Peter held him, his heart breaking that his family had caused so much pain and he hadn't even known. 

“This is stupid,” Sonny muttered when he had calmed a little. 

“No, it isn’t.”

“She died _years_ ago. I grieved and moved on.”

Suddenly, Peter remembered his own fresh wounds caused by the death of his father. A thousand little cuts in his soul from a complicated relationship that ended abruptly. He swallowed. This moment wasn’t about him. 

“It doesn't ... it’s not a straight line,” Peter finally said. He had been grieving his father for years before he died, wishing he were a different man. “It gets easier as time passes but it doesn't go away completely.” He took in a breath. “I’m sorry I cause you so much pain every day.”

Sonny looked up at that, meeting Peter's eyes. “You don’t. You-“ he sighed. “This is why it’s so confusing because you _don't_ cause me pain. You make me happy. I’m always excited to see you and talk to you. But every instinct in my body says to run, that you’re dangerous. And then you smile at one of my dumb jokes and it’s like ... absolutely none of that matters.”

Peter smiled softly, heart fluttering. He didn't realize he had been leaning toward Sonny until their lips met in a soft kiss.

It took Peter a full moment — in which Sonny wrapped his arms around him and reeled him in — to realize that he was _kissing_ Sonny. 

Peter pulled away quickly. “I-I’m sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just-“

Sonny looked at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. And grinned.

“So _that’s_ what it was,” Sonny laughed. “A crush.”

Peter chuckled at the high-school vocabulary word. “You had a crush on me?”

“Apparently because I absolutely did not mind at all that you just kissed me. And, actually,” he added with a smile, “I could do that again.”

He shook his head. “This is not how I thought tonight would go.”

Sonny pulled him closer. “Are you mad about it?”

“No,” Peter murmured.

Sonny responded by pulling him into another kiss, and Peter forgot about absolutely everything else.


End file.
